Page 8 of Knot Your Bridezilla (High Fructose Corn Syrup Verse #2)

AVRIL

After unpinning all the pictures of potential beta dates and tearing out the yarn from the corkboard, I tried a new strategy. I don’t know what was crazier; the fact that I’d tried a plan this outrageous , or the fact that it seemed to be working.

I took each and every picture of all the future dates that I had considered. I turned each one over, so I couldn’t even see their faces—nothing at all. Then I just picked one at random.

Without even looking at the guy and making pros and cons sheets… instead of spending a good half an hour combing through the profiles to figure out everything I could about the guys… I just picked someone at random.

While I am surprised that I actually did that, what was more surprising was that this date was actually going well.

Me. Avril Stryker, was going on a perfectly normal date, with a perfectly normal guy.

The two of us had a perfectly lovely conversation. He actually even made me laugh out loud once. Almost twice.

This guy was almost too good to be true.

He didn’t spend the whole date talking about himself and how important he was. He never mentioned any fucking imaginary tables—to ask me what I brought to them. This guy didn’t even bring his mother to the date, or try to convert me to a new and weird ideology or anything.

All in all, this date had actually gone well.

“Wanna come back to my place?”

“You know what, sure.”

I was, after all, out here finding the man that I planned to marry. It was important that I test drive the goods. So sure, I could welcome the sexual advances of someone I barely knew.

Why not?